


Ambient Temperature

by kangeiko



Category: Angel: the Series, West Wing
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-26
Updated: 2006-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangeiko/pseuds/kangeiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>President Bartlet is introduced to the CEO of a major American law firm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambient Temperature

His memory must be going, because he could have _sworn_ he'd seen that face before. There was something about the paleness of the skin, stretched tight over unblemished cheekbones - yes, he _definitely_ remembered. His father had taken him to New York for something many years ago (he'd been just a boy) and he'd bumped into a homeless man on the street as he hurried to keep pace. He remembered reaching out a hand to steady himself, his fingers scraping against the stranger's cheek and feeling - nothing. Skin as smooth as a woman's, and as cold as the winter's night, as if he'd been stroking a reptile.

"I remember you," he said slowly, sorting through the muddle of memories. "I remember your skin." It was _cold_, he wanted to say, but he jammed the words back into his mouth.

The stranger looked at him, startled. Clearly this, was not what he had been expecting. He shifted minutely from foot to foot on the porch, seemingly ill at ease with the crush of Secret Service agents still dotted around the property, all keeping an eye on him. He opened his mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it. They stood there, staring at each other, saying nothing, until a small man darted around them both to thrust him hand out.

"Mr President, it's an honour!" He crowed. "Allow me to present Mr Angel, the CEO of Wolfram and Hart -"

Words words words, the small man spilled them across the porch, blanketing them all in the familiarity of introductions and making short work of any brevity that the meeting might have otherwise contained. The President said nothing, watching the stranger shift from foot to foot, wary and uncomfortable, and felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle.

*

fin


End file.
